


Just Stay

by notallballs (notallbees)



Series: The river always finds the sea [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Biting, First Crush, Hair-pulling, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Reunions, post-university, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tobio jumps to his feet. His synapses are firing hard, filling him with more faded golden memories. He remembers sweaty bus trips, and riding the bullet train with Hinata fidgeting beside him the whole way, and everyone's black jackets smelling a different shade of teenage boy. Tobio crosses the room in a few strides and halts right in front of Sugawara. “You're shorter than I remember."</i>
</p><p>Kageyama and Sugawara meet again by chance, seven years after Karasuno.  Kageyama is at least as awkward around Suga as he used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Stay

**Author's Note:**

> arhhh! first haikyuu!! fic, pls be gentle, and tell all your friends i'm amazing :3

The team take their time getting from the entrance doors to their locker room. The hallway is fluorescent-lit and smells of chlorine and mildew. It’s a little humbling, and some of the team seem put out by less auspicious surroundings than they were expecting, but they were informed shortly before their trip that the tournament centre had been affected by a fire and that the matches would be split between two older, smaller venues. Tobio doesn’t mind so much; the building is part of a university campus, and he enjoys the familiar atmosphere so soon after graduating. 

Ito and Amagi are chattering excitedly about the last time they were here in England, while Satonaka and Yamada keep shoving one another excitedly. Even after four months, Tobio doesn’t have them figured out; they couldn’t be more different in their appearance, but they’re like two peas in a pod in every other way. Yamada-san has Satonaka in a headlock by the time they reach the locker room, and they wrestle their way through the door still interlocked, walking crabwise to fit through. Tatsumi-senpai huffs and rolls his eyes while holding the door open, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Their antics are so familiar that Tobio’s mouth twitches without his say-so while his mind and his chest hum with a hundred soft, recollected moments from halls much smaller than this one. 

“Kageyama,” Tatsumi says, letting the door fall closed. “Kozumi-san spoke to me.”

 _Not now_ , Tobio thinks. Anticipation tightens his throat and squeezes the warm, summer-hazed memories from his chest. _Not this_.

“She wants me to bench you for the first day of matches,” Tatsumi says. HIs posture does not invite much hope, but he doesn’t signal his intentions with his body the way Sawamura-san used to, nor with his expression like Tobio’s captain at university. With a little more time, Tobio hopes he’ll be able to read Tatsumi’s hard grey gaze, but for now he just feels small and meek. “Aren’t you gonna plead with me?” Tatsumi asks sharply.

Tobio’s mouth thins as he presses his lips tightly together for a moment. “I know that I won’t change your mind, Captain,” he says, keeping his tone even. It wants to fall flat, but he tries to shore it up. “I believe that I’m recovered well enough to play, but you and Kozumi-sensei have far more experience than I. I trust you to do best for the whole team, not just for me.”

To his surprise—just as everything Tatsumi does is still a surprise—his Captain grins broadly and reaches out to slap his shoulder. The pound of it resounds through Tobio’s chest. “You’re a good team member, Kageyama-kun,” he says, digging his thumb into Tobio’s shoulder. “Don’t you think we’ll do better with you out there?”

“Yes,” Tobio answers sharply with an emphatic nod. “If we didn’t make it through today, and I could have made a difference—”

“Well, well,” Tatsumi says, shaking his other hand dismissively. “Don’t be so pessimistic, Kageyama, you sound like my grandmother.” He gives Tobio a gentle shake. “Give us a strong first set, okay? If you need to stop then, Nagata will take over.”

Tobio nods fervently. “Yes. I won’t let you down, senpai!”

 

 

There are still thirty minutes left until their game is due to start. The team have fallen quiet for the most part; most of them are studying their opponents, exchanging theories and suggestions under their breath. Tobio bounces on the balls of his feet a couple of times and winces when he finds his ankle stiff. It’s from the flight, he’s certain. He had almost completely improved before they flew out on Thursday. 

Tobio moves away from his teammates, shrugging off a concerned inquiry from Ito-san, and crosses to where Tatsumi and Kozumi are silently observing a game. 

“Hi, Kageyama,” Kozumi says, smiling at him brightly. 

“Problem, Kageyama-kun?” 

Tobio shakes his head and turns to Kozumi. “Sensei,” he says in a low voice. “Would you help me strap my ankle tighter?” 

She nods, pushing away from the wall with a bounce. “Of course!” 

She loses a little of her bounce and shine when they step back into the locker room. “Sit,” she orders, gesturing to a bench and grabbing some sports tape from her bag. “Daisuke promised me you wouldn't play if you weren't up to it.” 

“I'll let Nagata sub for me if it gets bad,” he says quickly, though he can tell by her raised eyebrow while she works that she isn't impressed. “I can do it.”

Kozumi sits back and rests her hand on his shin. “I know you can, Kageyama-kun,” she says, sighing. “But—”

The door bursts open before she can continue and Satonaka sticks his head in. “Kageyama,” he yells, looking both confused and excited. “There's a fan of yours, they want to see you.”

Tobio frowns. “A _fan_? Here?”

The _here_ is redundant as it's not as if Tobio has many fans anyway, but Satonaka just looks _more_ excited. “He's from Japan too,” he says loudly. “He says you used to play together, should I let him come in?”

Tobio exchanges a look with Kozumi, then nods warily. He can't think who it could possibly be. The chances of anyone he knows being here on the other side of the world at the same time as he is seems absurd. He barely notices Kozumi get up and leave, and she's already at the door before he remembers to thank her. The door opens again as soon as she's gone, and Tobio hears Satonaka’s voice in the hallway. 

“—this one. Captain won't mind you guys taking ten minutes or so.”

“Thank you, it's kind of you. I wish you luck, Satonaka-san, I'll be cheering for you all!” 

Tobio jumps to his feet. His synapses are firing hard, filling him with more faded golden memories. He remembers sweaty bus trips, and riding the bullet train with Hinata fidgeting beside him the whole way, and everyone's black jackets smelling a different shade of teenage boy. 

“Suga-san,” he whispers, when the owner of the voice steps into the doorway. 

Suga laughs and touches the back of his own head, ruffling his hair. It's shorter than he used to wear it, but longer on top, and still sticks out in odd places. “Hi, Kageyama-kun. Sorry for intruding, I—”

Tobio crosses the room in a few strides and halts right in front of Sugawara. “You're shorter than I remember,” he says, then stops, puzzled by the sounds coming out of his own mouth. Suga also looks surprised at first, but his eyes crinkle after a moment and he smiles; as ever, far too forgiving of Tobio’s shortcomings. Frozen, Tobio shakes his mind in the hopes that something more friendly will fall out, but his head is stuffed full of volleyball right now. All he gets is a belated but fervent impulse to stick out his hand, which he does. 

“Well,” Suga says, laughing softly as he takes Tobio's hand and shakes it firmly. “I think you've grown more than I have, Tobio-chan.” Suga’s hand lingers, and Tobio wishes that he'd been brave enough to go in for a hug instead. 

“How did you know I'd be here?” Tobio asks quickly. He still sounds hostile and confused, and he forces himself to take a breath. “Were you—have you been following—?”

Suga shakes his head and starts to blush faintly as he reaches up to mess with his hair again. “I feel bad for losing track of your progress, but I’ve been preoccupied with my thesis, it feels like I haven’t been outside in weeks.” He meets Tobio’s eyes again and smiles shyly. “I saw a flier for the tournament yesterday, so I thought—I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to wish you luck in person.”

“No!” Tobio says, much too loudly. He blushes at Suga’s startled expression. “I mean, no, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, good,” Suga says, nodding. “Sorry, I should let you get ready—”

“Stay,” Tobio says quickly as Suga takes half a step back toward the door. “I mean—sorry, but if you’re not too busy, maybe we could catch up after the game?”

Suga’s smile makes his stomach turn over. “I’d love to.”

 

 

It’s one of the worst games he’s been part of since high school. Whatever the cause of it, the team is out of sync from the moment they step onto the court. Tobio moves to the bench after they win the first set by only three points. Everyone looks furious or miserable. Their Canadian opponents aren’t playing well; the first set should have been a steal. 

Tatsumi lays a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Well played, Kageyama.”

Tobio scowls. “We’re going to lose if we continue like this.” 

“Have faith in your teammates,” Tatsumi says sternly, but his expression is pinched, and Tobio can tell he agrees. A little part of him feels pride at having divined Tatsumi-senpai’s mood, though he starts to second guess himself immediately. 

Ito serves poorly, and Satonaka misses and easy receive, and from there it only seems to get worse. Yamada leans over at one point and bumps his shoulder with Tobio’s. 

“Don’t worry, Kageyama-kun” he says warmly. “You’re only on the bench because of the injury, Captain knows you’re the best setter we’ve had for years.”

Tobio nods. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, but Yamada is still waiting patiently for him to speak. “I keep thinking I should have done better,” he mutters, and winces when Nagata fumbles a quick toss. Tatsumi calls a time out. 

“Hey,” Yamada says, bumping his shoulder again. “Maybe it’s just not our day, it’s not about you.”

“Yeah,” Tobio mutters. He thinks of Suga, somewhere in the crowd. Looking up, he sweeps his eyes over the stands briefly but doesn’t spot him. Maybe he left. Just as he’s about to turn his attention back to Tatsumi’s pep talk, he catches a flash of silver hair and feels his heart lighten. Suga smiles and waves at him, and Tobio raises his hand in a tentative salute.

“Kageyama!” Tatsumi snaps, cuffing him on the side of the head. “Just because you’re warming the bench doesn’t mean you can interrupt my speeches to wave at your fans!”

Tobio flushes slightly, but everyone laughs and it lightens the sombre atmosphere considerably. Another glance up shows him Suga wearing a sheepish expression. He mouths an apology and Tobio shrugs, smirking back. 

 

 

“That last set was tough,” Suga says, pouring white wine into two glasses. “I think you almost turned it around in the middle of the set.”

“The team was too disheartened,” Tobio says, liking the way Suga says /you/ instead of /they/, even though Tobio only played for a third of the match. 

Suga sighs. “I think you're right.” He sets the glasses on the little table and Tobio straightens up. He's been slouching in his chair, watching Suga's back as he cooks for them both with easy, careless movements. Suga has a pleasing familiarity with his small kitchen space, reaching without looking for salt and oil and chopsticks. 

Tobio knows that Suga went shopping for ingredients while he was cooling down and changing and commiserating with the team post-match, but he's astonished by the intricate meal taking shape before him. Tobio can cook, but barely: a habit inherited from his parents. Suga's cooking reminds him of his aunt, who trained to be a chef before marrying instead, and devoted herself to every mealtime. 

The silence between them stretches out far enough that it becomes taut and brittle. Tobio clears his throat. 

“Thank you for inviting me to your house.”

Suga glances at him over one shoulder, the quirk of his mouth playful as though he suspects that Tobio might be teasing him. “It's a pleasure to have you.” He sets the food on the table and pushes Tobio's wineglass toward him. While they drink a silent toast, Tobio can feel Suga watching him. “Okay,” Suga says, clapping his hands together lightly. “You must be starving.”

They eat quietly for a few minutes. Suga asks him a few questions about university, the men's national team, and they trade a few stories about old team members. Tanaka, apparently, has a popular YouTube channel. 

They're about halfway through the meal and the wine when it occurs to Tobio that they've barely talked about Suga yet, and he casts around for something to say.

“I like your hair now.” 

It's not quite what he intended, but Suga looks pleased and reaches up to brush it out of his eyes, smiling self-consciously. 

“Ah, thank you. I never remember to cut it, but I have a friend who uses me as practise.” He grins. “You should have seen my hair six months ago, I had a ponytail like my little sister.”

Tobio laughs because Suga does, but he can’t help thinking about how much he’d like to see Suga with long hair. It makes him sigh a little. He likes that Suga is brave enough to change his hair so much, that it doesn’t bother him to try something new for himself. Tobio can’t help wondering when _he_ last let himself try something new. He’s in England, at least. That’s something, even if it is only because of volleyball.

“How long have you lived here?” he asks suddenly, struck by inspiration. 

“Ah, three years. I miss home though.”

“Japan, or Miyagi?”

Suga shrugs and smiles helplessly. “All of it. Not all the time.” He grins. “Mostly I miss the food.”

Tobio nods sympathetically, and the two of them eat quietly for a few minutes until Suga breaks the quiet again. 

“I’m sorry about the match.”

Tobio shrugs. “It wasn’t our day.”

“I shouldn’t have bothered you before you played,” Suga says, glancing down at his wineglass. “I worry that I was a distraction, showing up so suddenly. You'll have to let me make it up to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Tobio says, staring at him. “I was so nervous before you got there. Tatsumi-senpai almost didn't let me play at all because of my ankle.” He swallows thickly. “I performed better because I knew you were watching.” 

Suga looks up with a smile. “Did your injury trouble you? If so, I couldn't tell.”

Tobio shakes his head quickly. “It's healed now. Mostly.” 

“That’s good.”

An awkward silence follows, in which Tobio anxiously tries to think of something to say. They haven’t spoken in five years, haven’t seen each other in even longer, there must be _something_ he can ask. He looks away, down at his food. “This is good, thank you. It’s really kind of you to cook for me.”

Suga sits back in his seat and looks at Tobio for a moment before suddenly starting to laugh. He tips his head back and the laughter opens him up like a flower blooming. Tobio watches the colour flood Suga’s pale cheeks and he smiles at the same time as a surge of desire flares into life in his gut. 

“Sorry,” Suga says, struggling to get his face under control. He covers his mouth with one delicate hand, half covering his soft pink lips, and Tobio’s mind goes places that it absolutely should not go when he’s having dinner with an old friend. “I’m just surprised, I guess. I hoped I would get to speak with you, but I never imagined that we’d end up here tonight. I had to throw my housemate out.” He meets Tobio’s eyes as he says it, but it takes a moment for the message to sink in.

By the time Tobio has processed the words, Suga is already reaching for his wineglass, but he stretches out his legs under the table and presses his ankle against Tobio’s uninjured one. 

“S—Suga,” Tobio stutters. 

Suga sips his wine and smiles. “Koushi.”

Tobio flushes. Now is one of those moments in which he needs to say something smooth or sexy, but he’s never been very good at that sort of thing. “I’m not a good kisser,” is the first thing that comes to mind, and there’s an awful moment of silence in which he realizes that he’s said it out loud. 

Suga— _Koushi_ covers his smile again with his hand, and Tobio covers his entire face. “Oh no.”

“Tobio,” Suga says, trying not to laugh.

“I’m so sorry—”

Suga leans across the small table and touches Tobio’s wrists with his fingertips. “Please look at me, Tobio-chan.”

Reluctantly, Tobio pulls his sweaty palms away from his hot cheeks. Suga is leaning close, his eyes heavy and wanting. He slides his hand up Tobio’s wrist and curls their fingers together. Tobio swallows. _Just ask_ , he thinks. _Just ask if you can kiss him_. He clears his throat. “Um. May I—”

Suga kisses him. 

“O—oh,” Tobio sighs, but when he tries to lean forward, his chest knocks the table and his own wineglass clatters over his plate. “Fuck—”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Suga says, lurching back on his chair to grab a cloth from the kitchen worktop. Tobio notices with a horrible jolt that the glass is cracked, and Suga’s pale grey shirt is splattered with red wine. 

“I—I’m so sorry—”

Suga grins at him. “Don’t worry. None of our glasses match anyway, my housemate is even clumsier than I am.”

Tobio jumps up to help, knocking his chair over in his haste. It collides with a stack of books and they spill across the floor. “Oh fuck. Su—Koushi—I’m so—”

“No, no, please don’t apologise anymore,” Suga says, laughing. “It’s my fault for leaving them everywhere. This room is really too small to host anyone.” He puts down the cloth and pushes aside the plates and the cracked glass and reaches for Tobio’s hand. “Come on,” he says, looking up. “My room is along the hallway.”

Suga’s room is just as untidy as the living room, if not moreso, but it feels cosier because Tobio can sense Suga in the disorder, rather than a mismatch of two people coexisting. There is a desk on one side of the room, overflowing with books and piles of notes, photocopied pages, receipts, hair ties—Tobio suddenly recalls Suga’s long hair—

“Ah, sorry about the mess,” Suga says, quietly shutting the door behind them. “If I had known that you were coming—”

Tobio risks a smile, hoping that he doesn’t look mean or smug, or any of the things people are always telling him he looks when he tries to smile. “You were always a little disheveled, Koushi-san,” he says, willing his voice not to shake and betray the false confidence in his words. “I—I liked that about you.”

Suga looks surprised, but it lasts only a moment. Tobio takes a step toward him and Suga falls into his space, reaching up to touch his jaw. “I hope I don’t sound creepy,” he whispers, smiling softly. “You have such a beautiful smile, Tobio. I’ve missed your smile.”

“Ah—don’t—don’t say that,” Tobio mutters, ducking his head automatically to hide the way his smile stretches wide, baring his sharp canines. 

“Sorry,” Suga mutters, standing on tiptoe and pressing his lips to Tobio’s cheekbone. “I didn’t mean to make you blush.”

With a groan, Tobio puts his arms around Suga’s waist and pulls them together. Suga falls against him with a soft sound, his weight pleasantly grounding against Tobio’s body. 

“You make me completely stupid,” Tobio complains, though it's hard to feel grumpy with Suga’s warm cheek pressed against his neck and soft, sweet-smelling hair tickling his nose. 

Suga pulls back slightly, lifting his hand to touch Tobio's jaw. “You're shaking.”

Tobio lowers his gaze to Suga's parted mouth. “I'm nervous,” he admits. 

“Me too,” Suga whispers. 

“Can I kiss you again?”

Suga nods slightly, and Tobio doesn't hesitate before bringing their lips together. There's still a distant worry in his stomach somewhere that he's no good at this, but Suga makes low, encouraging noises into the kiss and his arm tightens around Tobio's waist. Tobio squeezes him back eagerly while Suga chases his tongue. He remembers Suga being much slimmer, and he supposes he's filled out a lot himself, but it's extremely pleasant to push his fingers under the hem of Suga's sweater and touch the soft skin over his hip, slightly padded like an animal fattened up for winter. 

“Tobio,” Suga gasps against his cheek. His fingers are knotted in the back of Tobio's shirt. Suga smiles without opening his eyes and brushes his lips against Tobio's, but doesn't allow a kiss. “You didn't tell me the truth,” he says softly.

“About what?” Tobio asks, startled. He tries to think if he said something obviously untrue; that he didn't miss Suga, that he's never thought of him in seven years, that he never wanted this while they were at Karasuno together? 

Suga leans back slightly and pushes his hands up the front of Tobio's shirt to lay them against his stomach. He bites his lip, and Tobio is stunned by how erotic such a simple gesture looks on Suga. “You said you weren't a good kisser,” Suga says, raising his eyebrows as if daring Tobio to change his story. 

Tobio's cheeks flame immediately, and Suga pushes his hands up further, stroking Tobio's abs a little shamelessly. “Koushi,” Tobio says, rebuking him gently. He grits his teeth. “I'm—what are we doing here?”

Suga frowns. “What do you want to do?”

Tobio puts his hand on Suga's wrists to still his roaming hands. “I want to sleep with you.” Suga starts to smile, painfully beautiful—Tobio had forgotten the dimple in his cheek. “But I'm only here for three days.”

“Then let's make three days count,” Suga says, turning his hand to take Tobio's for a moment. “If you want, we can just kiss—”

Tobio makes a soft noise of disagreement and fits his mouth to Suga's again. _I want more than that,_ he thinks, sliding his hands up to hold Suga's face and kiss him harder. 

Suga moans and touches Tobio's back, pulling his shirt up with the smooth glide of his hands, fingertips light. Tobio pushes him backward three steps to the wall and presses him against it with his hips. Groaning, Suga digs his short nails into Tobio’s back. They break apart, panting, and Tobio burrows in to kiss Suga's neck. 

“Hnn—Tobio, yes,” Suga moans, reaching up to tug his hair. The other hand pulls at Tobio's shirt, hitching it up to his armpit. 

Tobio rears back and hauls it off in one swift movement, and as he leans back in it's impossible to miss the way Suga looks at his chest, approving and hungry. He yearns, suddenly, to see Suga without his clothes. The image in his mind is still Suga at seventeen and eighteen, glimpses of him stolen in the club room or the showers. He remembers once walking in on Suga alone in the club room during the height of summer. He had been sitting on the bench in just his underwear with his head tipped back against the wall, wilting in the heat. Back then Suga was strong and slender, and vibrant in the way only teenagers are. Tobio knows that he himself is much the same, just bigger and broader. It’s a little boring to him, the way most of the athletes he knows look much alike. 

Before he can second guess himself, Tobio puts his hands on Suga’s hips and tugs at the hem of his sweater. “Can I—?”

Suga nods, pushing himself away from the wall, and Tobio pulls the sweater up, hesitating while Suga raises his arms before tugging it over his head. Laughing, Suga runs his fingers through his rumpled hair. For a moment Tobio worries that Suga is shy, or ashamed of his body, and he traces his fingertips over Suga’s chest in wonderment. “You’re so good-looking, Koushi,” he murmurs, stumbling a little over the name. It’s unfamiliar and intimate enough to feel like an endearment. 

“You’ve got good eyes,” Suga teases. He tips his head toward the bed in the corner with a lopsided smile. “Come on,” he says quietly. “It’s cold in here.”

Suga unfastens his jeans as he crosses the room, picking his way with easy familiarity through the mess on the floor. He kicks his jeans off and Tobio takes a moment to admire the way his clingy boxers fit his girlish hips. His backside is like a round, ripe-looking peach and Tobio wants to bite it. The thought pulls him up short; it’s been longer than he realised since he last had sex, and with the buzz of the tournament still ringing through him, it’s little wonder he’s getting amped up so easily. 

As if he knows what Tobio is considering, Suga pauses with one knee on the edge of the mattress and twists to look over his shoulder. He grins, reaching back for Tobio, the gesture so familiar for all that they hardly know each other. 

Tobio presses behind him, wrapping his arms around Suga's waist and bending down to kiss his shoulder, then the side of his neck once more. 

“Mm,” Suga sighs, reaching up to hold the back of Tobio's neck. “Bite me again.”

“Fuck,” Tobio mutters, obliging him eagerly. Suga tenses in his arms before melting against him, loose and willing. 

Tobio sheds his trousers and Suga drags him under the sheets. Privately, Tobio is delighted that Suga didn’t have time to get ready for hosting him. The sheets probably need to be changed; they smell strongly of Suga, so that kissing him underneath the warm tent of blankets is like being surrounded by him completely. 

Suga slips his knee between Tobio's thighs and grabs his butt with both hands, making him laugh. Tobio doesn't know when he last enjoyed fooling around with someone so much. He kisses Suga's face while they grind against one another; Tobio feels like a horny teenager, but without the overwhelming terror that he's about to come in his pants. 

“Okay, okay,” Suga gasps suddenly, wriggling to put a little space between them. He doesn't stop touching Tobio, hands lingering on the small of his back. Suga shakes the hair off his forehead with a rueful grin. “Hey,” he mutters, looking at at Tobio. “Can you tell me what you like to do?”

“Uhhnh—” Tobio groans, rather than making words at all. “Uhh.” _Get it together, idiot_ , he thinks, closing his eyes for a moment to shut out the brain-melting sight of Suga, flushed and smiling underneath him. “A—anything,” he stammers. “Anything with you.”

Suga makes a noise that’s half-laughter, half-groan. He wriggles again, making Tobio choke back a moan when Suga’s dick rubs against his hip, and reaches over to the drawer beside his bed. “O—kay,” Suga sing-songs, fumbling around and then raising his hand triumphantly with a strip of condoms. Tobio’s mind whites out with eager possibility, and it takes him a moment to realise that Suga is asking him a question.

Tobio rolls to his side and tries to gather his thoughts, which isn't easy with the sight of Suga reclining comfortably on one elbow while he tears open a condom with his teeth. 

“Uh—sorry, what?” he mumbles.

Suga gives him a maniacal grin and licks the greasy lube from the inside of the condom wrapper off his teeth. “Can I go down on you?”

Tobio makes a sound that isn't quite human, let alone anything like a real word. He nods, then lurches forward to grab Suga's face and kiss him fiercely. His fingers want to push up and curl into Suga's soft hair so he lets them, and tries not to shudder too much when Suga smiles against his mouth and reaches down to stroke him through his boxers.

“To-chan,” Suga mutters against his mouth. “Is that a yes?” He adjusts the angle of his wrist and grips Tobio's dick a little harder. 

Tobio shivers all over. Nobody has called him that dumb little nickname since he was a kid; even his parents always call him Tobio. He tightens his fingers in Suga's hair, but even though Suga hisses through his teeth, he's still grinning, enjoying the rough treatment. “Guh— _god_ , yes,” Tobio gasps. “Please, Koushi—”

Suga pulls away and rolls to his knees beside Tobio. He strips out of his own underwear first, and Tobio can't help the way he looks down, shamelessly eyeing Suga now that he's naked at last. He yearns for a taste. Suga shuffles around as he strips Tobio of his own underwear, and Tobio puts his hand out instinctively to stroke Suga's beautiful butt. He can't help wondering if Suga would let Tobio eat him out sometime. It's been ages since he slept with a guy who was into that. 

“Okay?” Suga checks, after throwing a leg over Tobio's thighs to straddle them. “Can I—?” He gestures with the open condom packet in his hand and Tobio nods, putting his hands over Suga's bent knees. 

“Wait. You're—I think you're incredible,” Tobio says. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and finds that Suga is looking pink and bashful. “Really,” Tobio goes on earnestly, gripping Suga's knees. “One of the best people I ever met, I—”

“Stop, please,” Suga begs, covering his mouth again, as if he could hide that smile from Tobio. “You're going to give me a complex,” he jokes, his eyes soft and amused. “I'm happy to see you too.” Tobio's ears flame. 

Suga looks down at Tobio's body and strokes his stomach with the palm of his free hand. He bites his bottom lip as he curls his fingers loosely and runs his knuckles gently up and down the length of Tobio's dick a few times. 

“You always tease,” Tobio accuses, gritting his teeth. 

“I know,” Suga says, laughing at him. He finally gets his fingers around Tobio's dick and rolls the condom on smoothly. His mission accomplished, he goes back to stroking Tobio's stomach. “Fuck, you're so— _fit_ ,” Suga says, and laughs again. 

Tobio grabs Suga's hand and pulls it up to his face. He kisses the palm and watches the laughter stick in Suga's throat. Tobio smirks up at him, for once not worrying that it'll give the wrong impression. “I really don't care what sort of shape you're in,” he murmurs. “You're perfect.” 

“You're too sweet.” Suga's fingertips play across his bottom lip, and Tobio catches one between his teeth. “Oh!” Suga gasps. He strokes Tobio with his other hand, fingers moving lightly. Without considering whether it might seem like some kind of hint, Tobio sucks on Suga's finger, using his tongue to caress it. 

For a moment Suga watches him, his expression startled and excited, but after a minute he pulls his hand free and grabs Tobio's hips. “You'll make me embarrass myself,” he scolds gently, before shimmying down the bed a little. 

Tobio is anything but ready to watch Suga's rose-pink mouth open around his dick, but he can't look away. He thinks of how it would have been if they'd done this in high school: fumbling and scared, guilty for wanting it at all. 

As if he can hear Tobio's thoughts, Suga glances up. Holding his gaze, Suga teases the end of Tobio's dick with just his tongue. Tobio covers his face with his hands.

“Oh my god,” he groans.

“Tobio.” He can feel Suga's breathless laughter on his skin. His first brief, guilty thought is that Suga should really be sucking him off right now, not laughing at him, but he knows that isn't true; he's content just to be in Suga's company again. 

“Tobio,” Suga says again, his voice soft. He reaches up for one of Tobio's hands and pulls it down toward him. “Like this,” he says, quiet and clear, guiding Tobio's palm to rest on his head. He grins. “Show me what you like. Grab as hard as you want.”

It takes a few seconds for the roaring in Tobio's head to clear, but when it does he threads his fingers through Suga's hair and holds him carefully. 

Suga gives him a look that says _’you can do better than that’_ before dropping to take Tobio in his mouth again. He takes his time at first, rolling his tongue with slow, deliberate movements that make Tobio shudder and his fingers clench in Suga's hair. 

Suga's hands are on his hips again, deceptively strong arms holding him against the mattress. It gives Tobio the courage to test his hold, letting his hips buck the way they want to. Suga lets him move a little, not far enough to choke him, and moans encouragingly when Tobio's grasp tightens. 

They fall into a rhythm; Tobio guides with his hands and Suga responds incredibly, changing his speed or pressure every time Tobio redirects him, until he's gasping and Suga is struggling to hold him down. Suga releases his hips and gets both hands under him to grab his butt, digging his nails in again hard. Tobio comes suddenly with a startled noise, crushing Suga's face into his belly when he tries to push deeper, _deeper_. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasps, quickly letting go. “Suga, sorry—”

Suga's mouth softens around him but doesn't release him right away. He stays, pale eyelids fluttered shut, Tobio's dick jerking weakly against his tongue. For a moment Tobio thinks that Suga hasn't heard him, but then his eyes open and he gives Tobio a mischievous look. 

“I want to watch your face next time you come,” he says, sitting up. 

“Fuck,” Tobio hisses, grabbing for him. “You're awful, I hate you.”

Suga falls against him, both of them laughing bright and helpless. “I—hah—I thought you said I was perfect.”

Tobio bites his jaw and is rewarded with Suga whimpering in his ear. He flops back and pulls Suga to sit on his chest, tugging him forward till Suga's dick bounces off his chin. 

“To—Tobio.” Suga puts a trembling hand over Tobio’s mouth. “We—we should—”

Condom, right, he knows. Tobio turns from Suga’s hand and nuzzles his face into the crease of Suga's thigh, fingers digging into his butt to drag him closer. It smells too good to remind him of a locker room, but it's like the best parts of it: the sweat of effort, the adrenaline coursing through him. He wraps his fingers around Suga’s dick and starts to stroke him. 

Suga curls over to kiss him, bent almost in half to reach his mouth. It’s clumsy and cramped; Tobio can’t move his wrist with Suga curled so tight around it, and Suga’s hands shake where they hold his face. 

“Am I crushing you?” Suga whispers while their faces are still close.

Tobio shakes his head, smirking. “You’re not that heavy.” He loosens his grip and squeezes again, the most he can do with Suga’s weight on his arm, but by the way Suga shivers and moans, his eyes falling shut, it’s enough. 

“I’m—it won’t take much,” Suga mutters shyly. 

“Do it on me,” Tobio says, forcing himself to be more brave than he feels. It helps that he’s happily strung out from his orgasm. Suga’s eyes snap open, wide, and Tobio holds his gaze. “Come on me, Koushi, please?”

Suga moans and pushes himself up again, letting Tobio get both hands on his dick. He rolls his hips into the touch, putting his hands up to tangle in his hair. 

“Ah—ah, Tobio,” he gasps, his voice breaking beautifully. 

Tobio strokes Suga’s chest and his stomach, rubs the pad of his thumb over a nipple. Suga hisses and rolls his hips again, tightening the grip of his thighs around Tobio’s chest. Tobio’s name slithers from his parted lips. 

It takes a minute, maybe three, before Suga shudders and cries out, and then he’s coming over Tobio’s fingers, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat. It’s so hot, Tobio feels burned. 

“Gah,” Suga groans, wilting. He slips to one side and crashes against the mattress.  
Tobio feels a bolt of dread, suddenly, with the realisation that now he’ll have to move, or talk, probably leave. He doesn’t want to do any of those things yet. 

Fortunately Suga seems to have no such concerns; he grabs a pack of tissues from somewhere, even though his face is still mashed into the pillow beside Tobio’s head, and carefully starts to wipe the mess off his neck for him. 

“Koushi,” Tobio mutters.

Suga hums an acknowledgement. “The bathroom is opposite,” he murmurs. “If you want to clean up.”

Tobio glances at the tissues and then down at his dick, which has almost slipped right out of the used condom. “Can I stay here?”

“Mmmm,” Suga hums in encouragement. 

Tobio wraps the condom in a tissue and chucks it across the room; Suga lifts his head to watch it ricochet off the desk and into the bin. “Nice serve,” he mumbles against Tobio’s neck. 

Tobio laughs and Suga beams at him. He half expects to be teased the same way everyone else does (‘Kageyama, you _do_ know how to smile!’), but Suga just fumbles for the sheets and buries them both in blankets again. 

“You don’t have to go, do you?” he murmurs, his fingers finding Tobio’s in the warm dark. Tobio can hear him stifling a yawn. “I want to do that again.”

Tobio rolls to face him and they tangle together, a hot mess of sticky limbs. “I want to stay,” he says, meaning much more than just tonight. 

Suga’s smile is visible even in the almost dark. “Then stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [@notallballs on tumblr!](notallballs.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> i like kagesuga, asanoya, kenhina, kagehina, kuroken ... i'm not picky dude, let's talk.
> 
> also [reblog this](http://notallbees.tumblr.com/post/137849758400/just-stay-notallbees-haikyuu-archive-of-our) if you like it :D


End file.
